That day, Zhang Shuai's avatar received an urgent message from Elder Chonghua. Eleven Dragon Soaring Sect properties, including Nether Poison Miasma Valley, had been attacked by the demon race simultaneously, and the disciples had suffered grievous casualties.
After receiving the message, Zhang Shuai's avatar lightly slashed at the void with his palm. The space was forcibly torn open into a pitch-black rift. Clad in white, he stepped through it and arrived above Nether Poison Miasma Valley, where the air was thick with a sickly sweet stench of decay.
Unfortunately, he had arrived too late.
All he saw was devastation.
Several pavilions and watchtowers that the Dragon Soaring Sect disciples had built in the valley from rot-resistant spiritwood and protected with poison-clearing formations had been reduced to charred ruins. The suffocatingly thick stench of blood had drawn countless venomous insects and snakes from the valley, and they writhed madly among the wreckage and pools of blood, fighting to devour the remaining essence of blood and qi.
His Divine Sense swept through the valley, but there was no trace of life left.
The twelve outer disciples stationed here, along with the hall deacon in charge of the area, had all perished!
Zhang Shuai's expression turned icy, and the killing intent in his eyes nearly solidified.
Clearly, the enemy had acted decisively and ruthlessly, and possessed overwhelming strength. At least one Demon King must have taken part in the assassination.
The fact that they had fled immediately after striking, without the slightest hesitation, made it obvious that this had been aimed at him.
After all, Demon King-level experts would not specifically target a group of Half-Saints and Quasi-Saints.
Afterward, Zhang Shuai's avatar went to several of the other attacked locations in succession. The situation was identical everywhere. He had arrived too late each